Little child left behind
by Emerald-Water
Summary: Every child experience this. An odd fear, that someone who's supposed to love you doesn't do it anymore and leaves you behind... well, it's Sam's turn. Dean 12 /Sam 8 , another Weechester - Enjoy!
1. Little child left behind

For all the cute Sammy's out there!!!

Okay. So. It's my birthday... and that means I can do what I want... and I wanted to give my friends here on a small gift.  
Because... I love it here... and I love ya guys... enjoy "Little child - left behind".

It's Dean (12)/Sam(8) - every child experience this. An odd fear, that someone who's supposed to love you doesn't do it anymore and leaves you behind... well, it's Sam's turn.

More or less all brotherly love and sappy moments, and Sammy doesn't know about the evil yet... Well, I guess you already know me... and for all who love extra-cookies an extra-cookie right behind the actual story ;)

Take care... Lee

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**Little child - left behind**

"Let me out! Let me out!" Dean covered his ears, ignoring the thumping noise coming from his little brother's feet, as he kicked the door.  
He sat with his back on the door, while his head rested on his bent knees.  
Another hard kick let him bounce forward. Enough!

Screw his dad's orders to stay in the house! Screw his little brother and his temper-tantrums!

It had been four friggin days he was sitting tight, trying his best… But enough was enough!  
With the next kick he got to his feet, grabbing his coat, ignoring the cracking voice of his younger sibling demanding to be let out…  
With one last glance back at the closed door, he left the small house, breathing in the cold and crisp winter-air…

...

Sam sat exhausted on the floor. He hated his brother. Why had Dean locked him in here… sniffling quietly he felt hot tears run down his cheeks again, wiping at them furiously.

He'd tell dad! And then Dean would see!!!

"Dean?" he turned his head, putting his ear on the door, listening to the sounds from the other side of the door.  
"Dean? Are you there?" his voice was gentle, because somewhere deep inside he knew he'd done something wrong.  
"Deany? Can I come out now, please?" he asked into the silence again, his stomach clenching as a deep fear bore into him.  
"Dean?" his voice was louder now… and a little edgy.  
Had Dean left?  
"I'm sorry… please Dean, let me out…" again tears started to run down his face.  
He stopped and held his breath as he suddenly could hear "Twinkle, twinkle little star…" being sung from the other side of the door.  
His voice a mere whisper he asked: "Dean? Is that you?"

...

Dean leaned causally on the banister, looking down into the water, small patches of ice already swimming on the lake's surface.  
He'd be in serious trouble, he knew. Sam would never let an opportunity such as this drop. Sighing deeply, he ran his hand through his hair, feeling tears string in his eyes.

He was too old to cry!

Why must Sammy always make things worse? Looking down at his watch he pushed himself from the banister.  
Taking a deep breath, he started his way back to the small house. It was time for Sammy to have dinner… and to take a bath. They were already running late…

...

"They always leave…"  
Sam shrieked, and pushed himself up at the door, as the voice, who'd sung before suddenly came from the bed in front of him.  
He stared at the small boy sitting there, his skin a odd grayish colour; his hair also grey.  
"Who… who… are you?" he asked slightly shivering. The room was so cold…  
"I'm Davy." The boy stood up, looking serious at him.  
"Your brother isn't a really good brother, is he?" Davy asked glancing toward the closed bedroom-door.  
It took Sam a while to consider this. "I… Dean… Dean's stupid." He said finally. "He locked me in!" he continued, feeling his anger start anew.  
"Yeah. I saw him doing it. And he left you." Davy added.  
Sniffling softly, Sam let his head hang. "He left me…" he repeated.  
"Do you want me to help you to punish him?"  
Sam's head raised a little.  
"Punish? I… don't know…"  
Davy came up to him, touching his shoulders, shaking him softly.  
"They never learn! They always leave… and never learn!" he said, his eyes suddenly so very much alive with an emotion Sam didn't know about.

...

Dean pushed the door open, standing a second in the doorway. It was really cold inside. He'd have to turn the heat up.  
Sighing deeply he stepped through the door, shutting and locking it behind him. As he tried to switch on the light of the kitchen he stopped dead, as nothing happened. Suddenly he felt the fine hair on the back of his neck rise. Something wasn't as it should be. His eyes already adjusted to the darkness he looked around, searching for the source of the sick feeling he had. His gaze came to a stop on the door to the bed-room he and Sammy shared.

From the small crack of the door he could see light filtering through, his breath caught as he slowly started to move forward, listening to his brother's quiet voice and another unknown…  
With a certainty he never knew he could have, he grabbed for the shotgun, as always leaning on one of the walls for fast access.  
As he turned the lock, he could hear the voices behind the door stop.  
"Sammy?" he asked as calm as possible with his breath coming in fast and irregular gasps.  
Pushing the door open, he heard his brother scramble back, leaning on the bed.

...

"He has a gun!" Davy informed him. "I think he comes to you to get rid of you forever." The little boy continued undisturbed by his own words.  
"They always do that… that and they leave you!" Davy said.  
Sam scrambled backwards in fright as the door was pushed open and the barrel of a gun came into sight.  
"You have to stop him, before he does it Sammy!" Davy's voice wasn't more then a frightened whisper.  
"Nooo!" with a strangled cry Sam moved forward grabbing for the weapon.

...

Dean was totally surprised as his little brother launched at him, trying to wrestle the gun from his grip.  
A pointy elbow was shoved into his ribs while they struggled for the gun.  
Dean could see the eyes of the ghost gleam in joy as he was pulled down by his little brother, the gun suddenly flew from his grip, landing in the far corner of the room.  
Panting he tried to get the flailing hands of his baby-brother to stop him to hit him further, wincing as his jaw connected hard with Sammy's head.  
"Smmmy!" he swallowed the "a" and finally managed to get his brother in a more then less safe grip.  
"Stop!" he roared, watching at the spirit while Sam still tried to free himself.  
"No! Don't! I swear I'll be good… don't do it! Don't do it!" suddenly Sam's fighting wore off and only now could Dean feel the hard shivers that shook Sammy's tiny frame.

His head snapped up as he watched the spirit, his eyes blazing in a fierce fire.  
"What did you do!" he bellowed at the ghost.  
"I just opened his eyes…" the boy spoke, starting to rise.  
"Don't leave… don't kill me…" he heard his brother's distressed whispers.

Letting go of the scared kid, he pushed Sam behind him, his eyes longing for the weapon in the far corner.

And suddenly he remembered… forgetting about the gun, he whirled around, dragging Sammy along, up the stairs, into the bathroom… the only room without a window.

...

He could hear the spirit laugh, as he pushed his little brother into the room, threw the door close and locked it. His hands searched through the small cabinet for the rock-salt, hidden there. Getting a grip on it, he dropped down in front of the door starting to draw a line.

He only had finished as something hit the door hard, letting him scramble backwards. Sammy sobbed.

"Let me in! Let me in!" the hollow voice of the spirit sounded through the closed door and again the wood shook under the ghost's attack.

Dean leaned back on the cold tiled wall, his arms going out to search for his little brother beside him. Finding him, he drew him close, his left arm sneaking around Sammy's shoulders, hand resting on the little chest feeling the rushing heartbeat.

For a moment they ignored the rampage of the spirit outside, huddled together in the corner of the bathroom. Dean could feel Sammy shift and relaxed slightly as the boy's arms sneaked around his waist, hugging him even more closely, his other hand cupped the back of Sammy's head. "It's okay. Nothing's going to happen. You'll see… Dad will be home soon enough." He shooed.

Outside the door the ghost continued to rage.  
"He'll leave you! It's always the same… they'll leave!!!" it screeched.  
He could feel Sammy whimper.  
"Sammy… even if you're world greatest pain in the ass sometimes, you're MY brother. I would never leave you… never ever."  
He could feel Sammy drawing back.  
"You let me alone…" the small boy sobbed. "You've been gone for hours!" the accusing tone hurt, but Dean had to snort.  
"Hours? I've just had to get my head free for a moment. I walked once around the block…" his voice grew gentler.  
"I'd never leave you…"  
"And the gun?" Sammy asked. Dean swallowed.  
"I… I knew something wasn't right… the thing out there…"  
"His name's Davy…" Sam corrected him.  
"Sammy… it's a... Davy is a…" both shrank back as something hit the door hard and it burst open, destroying the salt-line…

The temperature in the room dropped immediately as the ghost of Davy entered, his eyes blazing in anger.

Dean felt grabbed by an invisible force, his tympanum almost bursting as Sammy screamed in terror. He connected hard at the tiled wall, hearing his breath leave in a whoosh, while in his ears Sam's scream still echoed. Hot pain spread in his back and head and he was slightly aware that he heard his brother talking again, but too confused to understand what was going on.

"Trust me, it's always the same…" the young boy said, his eyes at Dean and the gun that hovered in mid-air, barrel pointing at Dean's chest.

Sam shook his head gently… watching frozen from his place on the floor. His brother sitting in an uncomfortable way on the floor, his head slightly bent forward.

"He'll leave you… or he'll kill you…" Davy hissed.  
"No!" Sammy shook his head wildly.  
"You're wrong. Dean wouldn't do that." He watched as the head of the ghost turned to him.  
"No… you'll be left behind. Like me." The ghost answered, eyes still on Sammy, but sadness radiating now from the dark orbs.  
"Sammy…" Dean's head jerked up in a start, his eyes blinking and settling frozen on the gun that hung in mid-air.  
"Please… he's my brother. I… I love him. I'd never want something to happen to him…" Sammy talked to the spirit, eyes glistening with tears.  
"I was left alone…" the little boy repeated. "I died. He left you alone. He'll do it again. You'll die."

"What happened to you?"

Both boys' eyes went to Dean as he spoke.

Davy looked at Dean for a moment. "Why would you even care?" the boy's voice grew cold.  
"There was a fire." Dean continued. "My dad told me about it. You died in a fire…" Dean's eyes drifted up and down the boy's spiritual form.  
"I didn't die in a fire. I was left behind!"

Dean nodded, while trying to get to his feet. "Yes. You did die in a fire. And you haven't been left behind. Your brother and dad tried to get to you. But the fire didn't let them through… They couldn't get to you, but they tried!!!" Dean's voice was sincere, watching Davy and Davy returned the gaze.

"There was a fire?" the spirit replied.  
Dean nodded. "Your brother and dad tried… and I wouldn't leave Sammy… I'd never leave my little brother behind…"  
"There was a fire…" Davy repeated. "I wasn't left behind…"  
The force holding the gun afloat suddenly vanished and the weapon clattered to the floor. Davy stared from one brother to the other.

"I wasn't left behind…" with those words spoken his features floated together and fell as fine ashes to the floor.

...

Sammy stared for a moment at the fine ash, and then his gaze drifted to his brother who still sat on the floor. Dean had given up in rising to his feet.

Both brothers blinked as the lights came back on, bathing them in brightness.

Sammy stumbled the few steps to his brother's side, falling down on his knees and flung his arms around Dean's neck, hugging his brother tightly, again starting to cry.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry…" he cried into Dean's shoulder. And he really was.

He felt his brother hugging him back, one hand going up and down his back in a soothingly manner.

"I know…" Dean gave him his absolution, chuckling slightly, he added: "Sometimes you're an ass… but I love ya!" He could feel Sammy's sobs dying down after a while, his breath evening out and involuntarily Dean yawned. He felt sore from hitting the wall, and knew he would have a nice bruise on his jaw from where Sammy had hit him earlier with his head. For a moment he contemplated in getting up and dragging his baby-brother's ass down into bed, but he just was too tired. So he fell asleep, his little brother still hugged tightly to him…

**FIN**


	2. Extra Cookie

Just a short POV through John's eyes... and well... read for yaself!!!

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**Extra-Cookie (Epilogue) **

It was four in the morning, as John stopped the car in front of their momentarily residence.  
Yawning, he stretched and opened the door, wincing at his sore back, as he straightened the first time in hours.  
He decided his duffel could wait till morning. He just wanted to go inside, check on his boys and go to bed.  
Unlocking the front-door, he already felt something off.

Pushing it open it revealed a quiet and dark house, except for the boy's room. Stopping dead he stared at the mess the little house had turned into.

His hands searched for the gun, hidden behind the waistband of his jeans, as he slowly and suddenly alert again, walked into the chaos. He sneaked to the door of his boy's room, his eyes searching. No one was in there. Turning around he started for the stairs and stopped at the bashed in bathroom-door.

His breath hitched as he took in the scene in front of him. Dean was propped up against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, while Sammy had curled up on his brother's lap, both arms wrapped around Dean's middle.

Looking down he could see the disturbed line of rock-salt and further in the room lay the spare shot-gun and everything was covered in a fine, white dust.

With a few steps he was by his boy's side, gently touching Sam's shoulder. The little boy woke at the very first contact. Rising tired eyes to his father.

"Daddy…" he whispered, uncurling his hands from Dean's midsection he let himself be picked up and hugged.

"Are you boys okay?" he asked quietly, noticing the bruise that had formed on Dean's jaw.

He felt Sammy nod at his shoulder.

"What happened in here?" he continued to ask. Sammy looked at him for a moment, then began to tell him about what happened that evening.

...

Dean woke as his bed dipped to one side. He felt another dip of the mattress, and a cold body snuggling up against him. For a moment he grinned, but started to frown, as a hand caressed his hair. A rough, calloused hand.

"Dad?" he asked, prying his eyes open, looking into his father's face, that hovered above him, smiling gently.

"Hey sport. We thought you never gonna wake up. We are hungry. You up for some breakfast?"

He felt Sam wriggling beside him. "I wanna have blueberry-pancakes!" he piped up.

Dean cast a look sideways to his sibling.

"Sammy… would you just go ahead and get dressed?" John asked the small boy and Sam nodded, jumping from the bed, leaving the room with a small grin.

Watching his father wearily, Dean pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing as it jarred his bruised muscles. A frown started to form… hadn't he gone to sleep in the bathroom??? The ghost!!!

His eyes cast down at the blanket.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered.

His dad's hand grabbed his jaw, gently not hurting his bruised jaw but forcing him to look up.

"Dean…"

"It was a spirit... remember? You told me about the little boy that was killed here?"

"Dean…" his father's warning tone let him stop.

"You did a great job, son…"

"I'm… I did a great job?" Dean asked.

"Sammy told me already about what happened… I'm proud how you managed everything here… you did a great job."

Dean was at loss of words at this praise. He saw the curly mop of hair of his brother peak through the door, a goofy smile on his face.

His eyes drifted back to his father, a huge grin on his face: "Can I have blueberry-pancakes too?

**FIN-FIN**

Thanks for reading guys!!! - Now, cookie and cake for all (only virtual ;))


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